Living Relics
by Kurizon
Summary: POST-WAR. After the defeat of the Black Mage, an entity made of pure malice and evil, the peace Empress Aria dreamed of was restored. With immense wealth, enough to last several lifetimes, Master Thief 'Phantom' has 'retired', choosing to live out the rest of his life a merchant or so it would seem. The return of a blue-eyed stranger...complicates things... [FULL SUMMARY INSIDE].
1. Prologue - Reprise of memories

**A/N:** I sincerely hope I do not regret posting this... This will be my second attempt at starting a multi-chaptered fic and first plunge into the MapleStory section of FF. Hello readers!

In regards to this story, **currently I only have a basic outline** for the first three or four chapters planned out. I am also attempting to suss out how to portray the characters of Phantom and Gaston. **As such, any tips or pointers that you readers/ viewers may have would be greatly appreciated :).**

I hope you enjoy the story and that my characterisation of the heroes are not too out of place... **(If it is, please tell me.)**

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SUMMARY

POST-WAR. After the defeat of the Black Mage, an entity made of pure malice and evil, the peace Empress Aria dreamed of was restored. The five heroes have since parted ways. With immense wealth, enough to last several lifetimes, Master Thief 'Phantom' has 'retired', choosing to live out the rest of his life a merchant and traveller or so it would seem. The return of a blue-eyed stranger...complicates things... Plunged back into the world of thievery, 'Phantom' steals the one thing he would have never imagined stealing...a human child.

_'Peace,'_ Phantom thought ruefully, _'had always been a fickle thing.'_

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LIVING RELICS

**Prologue - Reprise of memories**

An enormous explosion shook the entirety of the Black Mage's throne room. Debris; pieces of enchanted stone, coloured glass and concrete pierced through the air as a blonde-haired man rose his cane to parry them. To his left stood the young inheritor of the title of Dragon Master, an Onyx Dragon shielding both the boy and the Queen of Elves. A rumble behind and to his right alerted him to the actions his two other allies had taken to protect themselves.

The entire ceiling had been blown off by the force of their final combined attack.

Tendrils of dark energy and chains shot forward, encapsulating the entire area as they twisted and shrivelled as if in pain.

The five heroes looked upwards, war-beaten and grim they stood, weapons raised.

It was then the soft sunlight of a new dawn filtered in through the remains of the ceiling. The dark tendrils jerked still as chains of pulsing black mana appeared to tighten and tense. Bit by bit they disintegrated into dust particles before forming a thick mist that was swept away by the rising sun.

The dawn of a new era of peace had come.

_'Aria,' _Phantom thought wearily in the ensuing silence punctuated by ragged breathing._ 'It's finally over.'_

_Through vision obscured by rainwater running down his face - the world passes as a dark, endless blur. One thought stabs at his mind as he takes in the world around him – the large oval shapes with thin spindly hands, too thin to be human, grey flowers that look dead – _

_He cannot find her. _

_The overhead downpour does little to calm his clenching chest and the cold, unadulterated fear ebbing away at his veins. He does not realise it at first. (What, after all, was fear to a Master Thief who danced with danger daily?) But when he does, running forever through the shadows of Ereve's gardens for an unseen location does not seem like such a farfetched idea. His boots splashing through rainwater, he does not think, he runs. _

_Beneath an ancient tree with moonlight as his sole guide, he spots the large, white form of Shinsoo. A sense of relief washes through him as he hastens his pace to make his way over, boots clacking against tiles. The scent of burning smothers the air, dying embers casting a flickering light on strewn rubble, cracked tiles and decimated stone arches - but he ignores it for now. It is not important. None of it is._

_'You have come, Phantom...' the ancient, drained voice of Shinsoo echoes in his mind as large almond-shaped eyes open. They appraise him for a moment, sky-blue, before shifting. The great guardian deity moves one of its feathered wings to reveal Aria. Still and unmoving as if in sleep. But her cheeks are no longer rosy. Her chest does not rise and fall, softly, gracefully. Her eyes, blue eyes are closed. She does not greet him with a smile._

_'If the rumoured master thief Phantom wants to help the Maple World, then you are welcomed to do so...' A pause. 'But first, tell me what your purpose is. Is it... because of that?'_

_The musty scent of books hits him at full force before he can register it. He is leaning against the wooden frame of an open window, a silk card balanced on the tip of his index finger. Propelled by the winds, the card floats towards the ground. Before him, a young brunette in thick red robes and golden lining fixes him with a levelled stare. The card is now in their hand._

_Flipping it, knowing blue eyes close with mirth as a grim smile chances upon their lips. 'So you wanted to steal something but it got stolen from you instead?'_

_The bright, blue eyes of young Cygnus glance upwards at him in admiration. A child, through and through, he thinks, noting her appearance. But that power... _

_'I am glad to finally meet you again... Phantom.' she says in a small, shy voice. _

_Pausing, she glances to the side, fiddling with the hem of her silk blue tippet before moving her line of vision back to him once more. 'Meeting you makes me wonder what Empress Aria was like.' _

_A small smile graces her lips as she ponders. _

_'I bet she was a kind and beautiful person.'_

_It is another star-lit night in Ereve. Touching down silently on the balcony, he leans back casually against one of its intricate railings and watches. Watches as the cool night breeze fiddles coyly with strands of her long golden hair. A delicate ornament adorns her head, her light blue dress fluttering as she gazes far ahead of her. He has a strange inkling that it is not the night sky she watches from the balcony, swathed in light blues, but quickly dispels the notion. Appraising the small of her back, her slight frame, he cannot help but feel impressed by the power she eludes. The power of an empress._

_ Pushing away from the railings, he approaches her from behind, deliberately allowing his footfalls to echo against the balcony's floor. She whirls around, surprised innocent blues meeting suave amethyst. The Skaia sways side to side, grasped in her hands. She smiles softly, lips forming words:_

_'Phantom.' _

"-antom. Mr. Phantom!" Evan called, waving a bloodied hand before the purple eyed man's face. "Are you okay?"

Phantom looked up with a start.

"Evan?" he muttered, disbelief colouring his voice, much more than he would have liked.

At the sound of a loud, resounding clank and what appeared to be scattering pebbles, Phantom glanced down at his dominant hand, a frown creasing at his lips. Though barely noticeable it shook, locked in a position that was clenched but not quite a fist. The silk white material of the glove covering it had all been shredded – the remains matted with dried blood. Grimacing, he stilled his hand, directing his eyes down to the cracked floor where his most prized cane had fallen. Broken jewels of varying sizes and colours sparkled back at him in the dim light of the new day and for a moment, as he watched them sparkle; the world seemed to shine a little brighter.

_'It's all over.'_

Gently, methodically, for the first time in what appeared to be a lifetime, Phantom swept the soot that had collected on his military-styled jacket off with his hands, smoothed out any lines and mourned its tattered state as he inspected it. Ignoring his protesting wounds, he patted down on his brown trousers – even Evan's muffled voice seemed far off as he stared at his once pristine white cape. Shredded and bloodied, it was evident that it was unsalvageable.

On unsteady feet, he bent stiffly, picking up his cane and, pouring in what remained of his mana reserves, waited and watched with darkening vision as it morphed into a staff. The blue centrepiece gleamed up at him. Raising it slightly, a green glow enveloped his torso, knitting together skin and the soft flesh beneath. _Heal. _

Evan's bloodied hands were intrusive at best as they reappeared within his field of vision and in their flurry of motion were, of all things, fussing over_ him. _The boy's incessant questions of: _'Are you okay?'_ _'Are you sure you're okay?' 'Your abdomen was...are you sure...' _suddenly grew in volume the more Phantom listened to him. Grunting in ire, it was then he recognised his worsening mood. The flecks of blood accompanying every wave of Evan's hands in _his _direction (_of all directions_!) as the boy continued to wave about did little but contribute more to its deterioration.

Sniffling once in distaste, Phantom batted Evan's bloodied hands away with the side of his cane, eyes scanning the rips in the Dragon Master's robes, the pallor of skin, any stains of blood – the tell-tale signs of an injury in one casual sweep. Mentally noting that the boy did not appear to be severely injured, he limped to the right and towards the still and silent Mage of 'Light'.

"Luminous," Phantom called, testing out his parched throat.

In the following silence and the wide, decimated space that seemed to stretch on without end, the faint outline of hunched shoulders under white clothing and blue-tinted hair becomes visible to Phantom. The mage remains still.

There is no sign of acknowledgement.

Letting a sigh escape him, Phantom clicked his tongue. _'As affable as ever.'_

Moving closer now, the faint click-clack of Mercede's shoes echo in the silence as he takes in the distinct tenseness of the mage's shoulders, the clenched fists, the bowed head and the tight jaw.

"Hey, twink-," Phantom paused, shaking his head. Nicknames in this situation just simply wouldn't do, _even_ an idiot had enough tact to know that. Clearing his throat, he began again: "Luminous!"

Abruptly, the mage whirled to face him, an expression of pure fury setting one red eye, one blue eye alight.

Stiffening, Phantom frowned, a multitude of questions filling his mind as he stared thoughtfully into the mage's one ruby red eye.

_'That Red Eye...'_

_'It's still there.'_

Shifting uncomfortably and favouring his right side, Luminous closed his eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again.

"The Black Mage is gone," he intoned, resolute, but his eyes spelt out other words, another story. Fainter now, he continued, "The only remaining traces...lie in me."

_But it could have disappeared._

A stony silence set in between the two as they tolerated each other's presence. It had been a necessity, a requirement in order for them to collaborate in the war against the Black Mage. Now defeated three years later, this built up tolerance had yet to change. Phantom pursed his lips thoughtfully. He had never been one for comforting, trivial actions to show that you cared, however little... but...glancing towards Luminous, he supposed he could chip in something for a long-time ally, no matter how... antagonistic they had been towards each other in the past.

"Is there no way to extract it?" Phantom asked. _'That darkness,'_ went unsaid.

Luminous shot him a disgruntled look. It appeared that the mage too, had noticed the incongruity of the situation and Phantom's words.

"There must surely be a way..." Phantom continued, choosing to ignore Luminous's dubious look. The revelation. The glaring lack of a plausible solution. The fact that _he_ – of all people was attempting to carry out the concept known as 'comforting'.

_At times like this..._ Phantom sighed inwardly. _If only Freud were here. _He frowned. While the boy, Evan, had certainly filled out Freud's shoes well, earning his rightful title as the heir of the original Dragon Master...there was always the matter of knowledge. While Freud had been born a prodigy and a scholar, Evan had not... In place of theories and intricate creations, Evan had been but a simple farm boy...relying more so on his high emotional intelligence and adaptability rather than anything else to help him along the way. Clever... yet it wasn't enough, not yet.

Glancing up and around at the bodies of fallen allies, piles of rubble, scorched metal and twisted armour, Phantom brought one tattered hand up to the side of his head, hand ghosting over the cool circular jewel at the side of his hat. Soaking in the early morning sun that shone down on them and the crisp air, Phantom glanced upwards at the clouds floating by. They had attained victory at last, hadn't they?

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Prologue - Reprise of memories END

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**Fun fact: the dialogue present in Phantom's mini flashback are taken from different parts of his canon storyline. Can you guess which scenes they belong to? :)**


	2. Chapter 1 - In your memory

**A/N:** Finally onto the second chapter... I blame school getting in the way. Before starting, I would like to extend my gratitude to YukiSkye for her guidance regarding character development and a plausible storyline! **Thank you YukiSkye!**

I would like you all to **note that I have taken some****_ liberties_**with character backgrounds and ambitions...so hopefully they turn out ok. Again, thank you for all the follows and the two comments thus far! Also, **any tips or pointers that you readers/ viewers may have would be greatly appreciated :).** Please drop by a review if there is anything you'd like to comment upon that you either liked or felt could do with some improvement! I am always open to criticism.

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LIVING RELICS

**Chapter 1 – In memory of you**

_It is the scent of fresh grasses which fills the night air. Up upon the wide marble balcony, once again the small of her back faces him, the trailing ends of her blue gown, long, overflowing golden hair faintly lit by the full moon she watches._

_The night air is cool, silent apart from the soft whispers of the breeze. It is about time for him to announce his presence. Landing lightly on one section of the marble railings, he calls to her – slipping his pocket watch back under the folds of his cape._

_She whirls to face him, the full moon at her back— the lady with glittering blue eyes. _

_It is almost as if she glows silver faintly – and for a moment,_

_ as he absorbs the scene before him,_

_ the words he had meticulously planned out fail him._

_They remain, caught in his throat, as if mere breathing would ruin his mind's image. _

_She is beautiful._

_.._

The sound of curtains being pushed back abruptly reach his ears in tandem with the sudden explosion of bright light and Phantom groans, snuggling further into a cocoon of silk white quilts.

The shadow that looms over him persists and within moments Phantom feels a tugging – a sure sign that Gaston had _plans_, of the rather unpleasant variety, to remove him from bed. _(The last time he had been dumped unceremoniously out of bed had been entirely uncalled for!)_ Sniffing in irritation, he peered out of a small gap under the quilt, squinting up at the navy blue tie his butler wore with bleary, amethyst eyes. It was then the colour of cream walls on either side of his butler came into view.

"It is _far_ too early for any sort of drivel, Gaston."

The greying man has one eyebrow raised and makes to clean his monocle before placing it back over his right eye.

"If I may – Master Phantom, it is already 2 o'clock in the afternoon," pausing, Gaston moved towards the antique chair to the right of the bed and laid out a set of freshly ironed clothing upon it. "...sleeping in any longer may prove... unfavourable consequences to your weight, Master."

Grumbling, Phantom made to turn around, pulling his quilts over his head once more.

"Surely one day can't prove to be _that_ detrimental."

The silence that greets him is uncommon and foreboding. Peeking out of his quilts again, Phantom's eyes latch on for any signs of his butler. Gaston remains by his bedside, looking – rather... unimpressed, if he did say so himself.

"It has been five months, Sir."

Under warm quilts, Phantom grumbles softly. Had it already been almost half a year since he had left his ship? Since the fall of the Black Mage? Five months since he had done anything... remotely productive?

_Well this wouldn't do, he was a man of action after all – _

"Do you not believe it is perhaps... time to return to the stage?"

_...although it was rather nice to just stay in bed._

"You propose an interesting suggestion, Gaston," Phantom returns lightly. "It is... perhaps time I, as the retired Master Thief, graces the world once again with my presence." With a smirk never leaving his face, Phantom sat up, allowing the steady warmth of his quilts to fall away and reveal a white long-sleeved, button-down T-shirt. "I'm sure there are _some _of my adoring fans missing _ME _by now."

"Your long absence may have caused them to forget your heroics and exploits altogether," Gaston replies in kind, "My, master, they may have even been taken over by the charm of one of the other heroes. _That is, if they existed in the first place._"

Appearing aghast, Phantom shot Gaston a look. "Oh, you are just nasty today Gaston."

Chuckling lightly and with one eyebrow raised, Gaston repeats an age old saying:

"Isn't that what you pay me for, master?"

With his hand raised to his chin in thought, Phantom ponders on their previous conversation before it was derailed by Gaston's brand of teasing. "I will become a merchant and the occasional traveller. That was what I had planned all those months back after the Black Mage's defeat, if I do say so myself."

Swinging his legs over the side of the king-sized bed, Phantom pulls himself up with the help of the bed's intricately designed wooden frame of curls, accepting the slippers provided by his butler and makes his way across the smooth marble over to the antique chair of red leather and mahogany where a fresh set of clothes lay.

"A merchant, sir?"

In the background, Gaston begins pulling the quilt up with a flourish and placing it back down on the king-sized bed, smoothing out any wrinkles before moving onto puffing up the soft pillows.

"Yes, dealing with the sale of exquisite jewellery now in fashion," Phantom responds, pulling on a new pair of trousers and discarding his old t-shirt for his standard wear. "As the greatest Master Thief in history to grace Maple World, I believe I have...an _eye _for things."

"Do you plan on starting today then, Sir?"

Pausing on the second to top golden button of his suit, Phantom turns back to Gaston. It was an unusual question coming from Gaston: 'Do you plan on starting today then, Sir?' rather than the more common 'When do you plan on starting, sir?' It was far too... specific.

"Might there be a problem, dear Gaston?" he asks and, with eyes turning to the door, issues a soft 'come in' to the knocker.

With that, Marriane, one of his three maids appears in the open doorway, greets him with the Lolita maid clothing he had custom-made, settles a tea tray on the small coffee table in front of the antique chair and leaves.

"Oh no, Master Phantom," Gaston denies,_ "_what_ever _gave you such an impression?"

The slight but sure grin on Gaston's face is unbecoming and Phantom frowns wondering what kind of scheme his faithful, albeit cunning, butler had concocted.

Ten minutes later, he blinks, discarded from his ship – _of all things_ – on the wooden docks that lead to Ellinia; the rush of the cool, salty wind from the sea and an aged wooden bridge creaking beneath his feet – the town of magicians and fae before him.

It is a bright day. Cupping one gloved hand over his forehead, Phantom squinted up at the vast, azure skies, floating clouds and the obvious absence of the Lumiere's shadow. Flicking his frontal fringe away from amethyst eyes, he glared up at the sun in mild irritation, the lack of a raven masked hat making itself well-known.

In the distance, the horn of a departing ship echoes.

_'Very well, Gaston, I'll get the supplies - but don't think this is over.'_

Flipping his pocket watch open –_ he could never get used to strapping leather against one of his wrists _– he stared at the moving hands briefly, took note of the time and let the pocket watch fall back into the folds of his cape. _2:45pm, Gaston probably wouldn't allow him back onto his own ship until a sufficient amount of time had passed... _

Pivoting on his heels and with an elegant swish of his gold and white cape, Phantom sashayed towards the end of the port and doorway emblazoned by a steel and wooden plaque covered by overgrown vines. ' SIXTOPIA' blinked back at him in shiny golden letters.

..

The freckles of light dancing upon the green forest floor are strangely nostalgic of a time long passed, Phantom thinks, glancing up and around at the winding ancient trees that cover up the sky and render Ellinia's territory in a continuous state between light and dark during day. It is the light shade which keeps the forest cool, and, crossing a suspension bridge made from the woody remains of Dark Stumps and rope of twisted Slime's Bubbles, it is a drastic change from the pounding sun on the docks nearby.

The forest is quiet, accompanied by the soft pattering of Green Mushrooms' feet and fluttering of nearby rogue fairies. Energy balls – a novice magician – and the sound of a grunting mushroom grow muffled in the closing distance. Feet crunching lightly on the forest floor's undergrowth, Phantom allows his mind to wander in the pleasant coolness of one of Ellinia's deep forests, legs tracing out a more familiar path.

_The trees are smaller now, towering over the two of them, reaching and expanding outwards towards the sky – but not quite. The sun pierces through such meagre attempts of the overgrowth at blocking out its light, hitting the floor in a scattering of golden splendour. _

_This is where the forest begins._

_Feet shuffling, they continue through weeds, herbs, grasses, mosses and over protruding tree roots at a leisurely pace. _

_The man in red robes leads, pushing aside rustling branches as they move onwards through the natural labyrinth created in the forest and he follows. Follows the man in red with tousled brown hair as they make their way into the dark and cool interior of one of the many ancient but-not-quite trees. It is like entering a tunnel, Phantom thinks and a soft dripping echoes nearby. Sunrise dew droops at the edge of overgrown leaves that bend with the added weight. And down they go, down the winding steps made of sturdy, but overgrown wet leaves, cautious of their slippery nature in boots._

_The exit is not seen for a while as the two of them make their way down, small, but steady globes of magic emitted from the jewelled tips of a staff and cane respectively as they mark out their route._

_Stilling, the man in red pushes aside a drooping leaf with a gloved hand to reveal a new path of twisted, overgrown vines connecting the tree they were in to another outside. And they pace, slowly._

_It is then he bites his lip, brushing away a stray, golden strand from his view before continuing on. He has questions, many questions for the man in red who requested travel via the Lumiere because Alfrien was too easy to spot in the skies – far more easy to spot than the grand stealth ship and now leads the way. The man in red before him is strangely quiet, determined and unsmiling as they make their way across the makeshift path of interconnected vines high above the forest floor. How they had moved down from inside to above outside bemuses him but he keeps his silence because the man in red will tell him eventually._

_The man in red fixes ocean blue eyes on him briefly – pensive, almost, but it is strange – for the man in red is never pensive, never allows such emotion to break through and appear visible for longer than a fraction of a second. But it remains before melting away as the man turns back around again and they continue walking._

_"The forests nearby the town of fae are special," the man in red begins by way of explanation, dulcet tones perhaps a given due to the man's many speeches to the dwindling general public. "This entire environment... the area itself is imbued with a strong, ancient form of magic."_

_Pausing, the man rubs one gloved hand against the uneven bark of an overgrown tree at the end of the path they had climbed. Hand placed flat against it, the man turns to meet him at eye-level. "Time and Dimensional magic."_

_And suddenly, talk of 'Seal Stones' a 'Last resort' an 'Incomplete method' a 'Sealing' and an 'Unknown, temperamental magic' whispers into his ears briefly before vanishing abruptly as he blinks. And Phantom realises, knows why this sudden breakthrough is a leap for the researcher, the scholar and his friend._

_Turning back to the tree, the man mutters a soft incarnation under his breath, his left hand on the tree lighting up with an orangey aura along with the tip of his staff in his right. Beneath his hand, the smell of burning wood becomes prominent along with the crackling and falling pieces of charred bark. _

_Pulling his hand way, the man motions to Phantom to step closer and have a look. Phantom does. A swirling mass of green, hints of what appears to be teleportational magic but not quite – gleams up at him through the tiny charred opening in the tree._

_The man in red has a light smile on his face now, watching his new subject of study – a swirling mass of green with keen, ocean blue eyes; the first of which Phantom has seen in three months and Phantom is glad, glad that such a small discovery can bring joy back to a constantly creased brow and dark, circle bags beneath blue eyes._

_"Forgive me, Phantom," the man starts, a small, arguably sheepish smile thrown in his direction. "I did not mean to contact you on such a short notice."_

_Pulling the tip of his raven's mask further down his face, he scoffs lightly, motioning to the area surrounding them. "Freud, Freud, Freud, you kept me in suspense just for this?"_

_In the ensuing silence, the man is quiet, slightly offended perhaps or even perplexed as Phantom allows a small smirk to grace his lips._

_"Really, my friend, I was expecting something much more... extravagant."_

_It is now the man's turn to scoff lightly, a small smile playing on his lips. _

_"Only you are that particular about fanciful and extravagant entrances, exploits and exits, Phantom. I prefer the more... simple but profound exploits."_

_Motioning to the swirling mass of green with one hand, the man in red continues: "Isn't this a fine achievement?" _

His legs have moved him to a small clearing in the forest before he realises it. Shaking his head lightly from his sudden daze, Phantom made his way into the clearing, the sun's rays, weaker now further in the glowing afternoon, setting his white and golden cloak alight.

Before him, a monument lies. It is of a young man with unkempt hair, chiselled out of refined Golem Stones, smiling down softly at a book held within his left hand. His right clasps a staff loosely, a small orb and open wings designing its mantle, the long sleeves of his robes pooling downwards. Below it, on square stone supporting the sculpture laid a metallic plaque.

_In memory of the Establisher of Common Magic and Founder of the first Spirit Pact_

_Dragon Master, Freud_

_May his legacy live on_

Tipping his head in acknowledgement, Phantom pulls out a tarot card and materialises a bundle of small blue-and-purple forget-me-nots and yellow roses, kneels, places it by the step of the monument, stands and takes a step back.

Settling himself beneath the trunk of a nearby tree, Phantom sighed.

"It has been a long time, my dear friend."

Staring up at the purpling skies and the setting sun and Phantom muses, all thoughts of retrieving the supplies for Gaston and the Lumiere absent from his mind.

"Tell me, Freud," he begins. "Have we gotten any closer to the world Aria envisioned?" Gesturing to the forest around them, he continued: "or the one you saw?"

The statue continues to observe the pages of what appears to be a well-loved book. Silent. Smiling. And suddenly Phantom can't help but feel slightly sheepish.

"I know I've only been slouching in bed for the last five months but – even the greatest Master Thief in the history of Maple World needs a rest _sometimes_!"

Silence greets him. But it is as if the soft smile on the statue's face surely... without a doubt, has morphed into a small smirk. Freud had always known that his silence had bugged Phantom the most.

Grumbling softly under his breath, Phantom began again. "Yes, I know you believe that is just an excuse," imagining a man in red humming his agreement before him. "Honestly, you're as bad as Gaston sometimes – always ready to point out my faults."

"But..."

_But what?_

"You were always ready to save us all, you and Alfrien, even from ourselves."

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Chapter 1 – In memory of you END

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**Not sure how many people read A/N's but if you haven't please do!**


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